The Kidnaping Cousin of Malfoy
by Treesamphetamine
Summary: “Aha, I thought so. That is because...I am NEVILLE MALFOY!”


It is now that Hermione wakes to find herself in a dark room. It iscold and the ropes on her wrists and ankles hurt. She sighs. Not again, she thinks.   
  
  
  
She begins to look around for the one guilty of kidnaping her. He isn't around. Odd. No matter, Hermione thinks. He'll be back soon. He's probably out getting a cappuccino or something.  
  
  
  
Hermione settles into a comfortable position on the table that was set at a 110 degree angle. It is slightly squishy. Whoever had kidnaped her had at least paid attention to detail and had gotten her a comfy table to be strapped to.  
  
  
  
As her eyes get used to the dark lighting she spottssome furniture. A red comfy armchair is beside a Queen Anne end table. There are some books about Herbology on them. Suspicious books...Herbology? Who did she know that liked Herbology?  
  
  
  
She also notices a pair of emerald and scarlet slippers. They are rather disturbing. Hermione looks away from them.  
  
  
  
She hears the door creak open. A man (typical) walks in. Hermione's jaw drops.  
  
  
  
He is a god.  
  
  
  
About time, she thinks.  
  
  
  
He strides over to her, his wavy brown hair bouncing slightly. He has a good build. From the air of his walk and motions, she can tell he knows that he looks good. Damn, she thoinks. It's better when they don't know. I.E. Harry.  
  
  
  
In any case, he stops right in front of her, allowing her to smell the refreshing smell of his smelly aftershave.  
  
  
  
"Well, well, well, Miss Granger, how does it feel to be in my lair?" he asks, his voice silky and velvety.  
  
  
  
"Not to bad. Nice table thing."  
  
  
  
"Thanks."  
  
  
  
"Welcome."  
  
  
  
They both fall silent for a few minutes.  
  
  
  
"Uhhh...Hermione," he begins," aren't you wondering who I am?" He looks at her expectantly.  
  
  
  
"No," she says lightly. She begins to watch a fly trying to escape a spider's web. She watches the spider crawl out and begin to wrap the poor fly. She roots for the fly in her head. Apparently he doesn't like the fact that she isn't paying attention to him.  
  
  
  
"How about this? Do you want to know my secret plot?"  
  
  
  
"Not really." Eww...The spider is beginning to suck on the poor fly. She wonders if the fly is still alive or not.  
  
  
  
The man puts on a pouty face. This isn't going the way it had been planned to.  
  
  
  
"Aren't you even frightened?" he asks, exasperated.  
  
  
  
She looks at him. "No. But, you must remember, I've been captured by scarier people before. I'm the designated damsel-in-distress, despite the fact that I am the brains of the operation." She sighs; it is so unfair. Since when is Ron ever captured by the devilishly handsome evil men bent on attacking him with their sexual powers? Exactly.  
  
  
  
She looks back up to see if the spider is still there. Damn, it is gone. Her amusement has left her.  
  
  
  
She looks over to the man who has retreated to the armchair. He looks depressed. Apparently he's never lost his audience to a spider before. Well, it happens to the best of us.  
  
  
  
"All right, all right," she says. "Tell me your life story and your plot to take over the world. Let's get this over with so I can go home."  
  
  
  
The man stands up. "Thank you!" he says happily.   
  
  
  
He composes himself and gives Hermione an evil look. He swaggers over to her. "Well, missy, I am going to take over the world in the name of the Dark Lord!" He laughs evilly, coughs, and then continues. "I come from one of the purest bloodlines that ever was...there! I am...a Malfoy!"  
  
  
  
"Relation to Draco Malfoy?"  
  
  
  
"Cousin."  
  
  
  
"Ah."  
  
  
  
"Continue?"  
  
  
  
"Continue."  
  
  
  
"As a Malfoy, I have a duty to rid the world of Mudbloods and Harry Potter. You, being a friend of Harry Potter and a Mudblood, are the perfect target."  
  
  
  
"Now what are you going to do? You have captured me. I have not escaped. What now? Are you going to drop into a huge cauldron of acid until I am nothing but a wasted-away body of nothiness?"  
  
  
  
"Well," he says, shifting uncomfortably, "I was going to finish my story and hope you die of shock."  
  
  
  
"Good enough."  
  
  
  
"Now, where was I? Oh yes. Don't you wonder how I know so much about you?"  
  
  
  
He doesn't appear to know much about her, but if this will help move the story along..   
  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
  
"Aha, I thought so. That is because...I am NEVILLE MALFOY!"  
  
  
  
Hermione blinks.  
  
  
  
"NEVILLE MALFOY!" he repeats, throwing his arms up.  
  
  
  
She blinks and stares.  
  
  
  
He sighs. "I was disguised as Neville Longbottom during your seven years of Hogwarts."  
  
  
  
"Okay, then why do you look so good now? Plastic surgery?" Hermione asks.  
  
  
  
"No, costume," he answers.  
  
  
  
"Makes sense."  
  
  
  
They both fall silent.  
  
  
  
"Mwahahahahahahaha!!!" Neville cries.  
  
  
  
"Oh, give it up, Neville."  
  
  
  
He looks at her.  
  
  
  
"You're not evil enough."  
  
  
  
"Excuse me? Minion of death right here!" Neville points to himself.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, yeah. How many Muggle-borns have you killed?"  
  
  
  
"Well...Uhhh...None.."  
  
  
  
"And you weren't planning on killing me?"  
  
  
  
"You're going to be my first."  
  
  
  
"I thought you said you weren't going to kill me."  
  
  
  
"It's an evil minion's prerogative to change its mind."  
  
  
  
"Nice comeback," she said.  
  
  
  
"Thanks.  
  
  
  
"Now, to kill you!" Neville pulls out the small controller thing out of his pocket and pressesa few buttons.   
  
  
  
Nothing happens.  
  
  
  
He hits the controller with his hand.   
  
  
  
Nothing happenes.  
  
  
  
He throws it onto the floor in frustration.  
  
  
  
This time something does happen. It breaks.  
  
  
  
Neville "Longbottom" Malfoy swears loudly.  
  
  
  
At this moment, our hero enters...  
  
  
  
An eighteen-year-old Harry Potter soars in, hanging onto a rope attached to the ceiling. A look of pure terror is upon his face. He screams as he hits the wall and slides to the floor. Neville laughs.  
  
  
  
Harry moans as he stands up. He brushes the dirt off his pants and then turns to face Neville.  
  
  
  
"All right, minion, now you get yours! Stupefy!"  
  
  
  
Neville falls, dead faint.  
  
  
  
Harry walks over to Hermione and uses a spell to untie her. She stretches.   
  
  
  
"Thanks," she says.  
  
  
  
"Welcome."  
  
  
  
"How'd you know where I was?"  
  
  
  
They begin to walk out of the lair.  
  
  
  
"I found the address on Neville's end table by his bed. It said: 'Location of Evil Lair' and then an address."  
  
  
  
Hermione laughs.  
  
  
  
Harry smiles. "I had hoped that it might lead to you."  
  
  
  
"Course you did," she says.  
  
  
  
"But, I figured, if it didn't, my heart would," he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "You could say it was a homing device." 


End file.
